


The Last Dragonborn

by DocterCaboom



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Action/Adventure, Books, Diary/Journal, F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-07
Updated: 2016-09-07
Packaged: 2018-08-13 19:13:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7983043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DocterCaboom/pseuds/DocterCaboom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Last Dragonborn is a book written by The Last Dragonborn and companions, based on archetypes, that details their journeys in Skyrim before and after they join together. Their stories tells of adventure, fantasy, while some tell of romance. Put simply, this story is about one man's journey that he will not take on alone</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Last Dragonborn

**Author's Note:**

> This fan fiction is a book written by the Dragonborn and companions after the Main Story and the DLC's. The companions are actually the original characters listed in the Additional Tags. Most are characters I played on Skyrim. In every chapter, there are usually three stories. This first chapter tells the stories of The Last Dragonborn, the archetype of the Hunter, and the archetype of the Mage. Well that ends these notes, I hope you enjoy the story.

**The Last Dragonborn**

When misrule takes its place at the eight corners of the world

When the Brass Tower walks and Time is reshaped

When the thrice-blessed fail and the Red Tower trembles

When the Dragonborn Ruler loses his throne, and the White Tower falls

When the Snow Tower lies sundered, kingless, bleeding

The World-Eater wakes, and the Wheel turns upon the Last Dragonborn.

\- The Book of the Dragonborn

* * *

**Foreword**

Hello, I am the Dragonborn, the last one presumably. I'd like to say that I would be known throughout time and unforgotten by man, but nothing last forever, as my old friend said. And so; I have had my experience alongside others recorded into a book so as to keep my story alive. Some stories may be written in the past, the present, or even the future. However, only the destined will find the book. Whether or not the book will be important to the destined, that is for fate to decide. So as for words of Wisdom, there is nothing I can think of. Sorry, but your on your own. After all, you are destined, the Commander of Fate…

* * *

**Chapter 1**

**The Dragonborn**

I was born upon a little farmstead, five years after the Elder Scrolls disappeared from the Imperial City, in Skyrim to two loving parents. My father, Thrakos; strong as a bear, yet caring and compassionate and as loving as my mother; Anima. However, even if my father was as strong as a dragon, even he could not handle the attack of many from helping a helpless elf he had found being attacked by other Nords.

As he fought off the Nords, giving the elf time to get away, a local Guard appeared. My father called to the guard for help, only to receive a sword in the back from someone.

The elf told me one of the attacking Nords had killed my father, but in the elf's passing, he told me the truth; the guard had slain my father that terrible night. Seeing the murder of his savior, had driven the elf into a rage, lasting only until the guard lay dead, beaten savagely.

The rest of the attacking Nords ran away from the sight, not bothering to continue. The elf, took my barely-breathing father in his arms and rushed to find a healer, only to have the rain answer him. My father's last words were where to find our home and to take care of me and my mother.

I had left on a short journey to the city at the time and was returning back, when the elf had found our home, carrying my father's corpse. Yet, death was not satisfied yet, it thirsted for more; my dear mother, my only parent left living, but not for long.

As the elf told his story of what happened to my father, the news of such weakened my mother and Death came along and blew out the final piece of life that remained in my mother. She collapsed on the body of her husband, my father, and a friend to all.

When I opened the door of our house, I saw the bodies of my parents on their bed, already knowing them dead from the sense of death parading around my home. Before the bed, lie the elf, nearly drowning from the flow of tears departing from his eyes.

After crying for my departed parents alongside the elf, we burned down the farmstead and departed from Skyrim ourselves, and traveled to the elf's homeland, Valenwood. He passed shortly after teaching me all he knew about combat and elegance, leaving me in the care of his fellow adopted brother, a Nord like myself.

Years after honing my skills with him, we received a letter with the words, " _It's your_ _ **time**_ _to follow your fate and save Skyrim_." I left immediately at the age of 20 whereas the wood elf's adopted brother set out to find as to whom wrote the letter.

It took me a year to finally reach Skyrim. I heard on my travels a rebellion had broken out and turmoil was settling in. The gnawing feeling that I had to save Skyrim grew over time as I got closer and closer to Skyrim's borders.

As I entered Skyrim, the feeling subsided into something tolerable. But before I could take another step, a blizzard came out of nowhere, blinding me, and setting me down in a battle. The instinct survive sets in, I try to hide somewhere only to wake up moments later with a throbbing pain in my head and on a moving cart. This is where the story of the Last Dragonborn began, where **my** story began.

* * *

**Rohan**

_And this is where **my** story began._

After seeing the carts leave my sight, I signaled to Brynjolf the all clear. But, he doesn't appear. _Odd. Wait, don't tell me he was killed in the fighting or worse, kidnapped. Either way, I have to search for him. I remember the last time he was kidnapped. Oh boy was that fun._ Starting to look through the corpses riddling the ground, I don't find any trace of a dead Brynjolf, so my spirits are high, but then I realize I have to find him, Gods know where.

Hearing the sound of snow crunching underfoot, I turn around to see a Orc charging at me, yelling a battle cry. _Step aside or shoot some arrows... which one?_ An arrow flies into his arm. _Not my best work, but I'll take it._ The Orc stops for a moment to rip the arrow out of his bicep, giving me time to gain some distance. _Gods, that was amazing. I wonder what kind of pain he's feeling or if he's feeling any at all!_

As I run for anything that'll give me the height advantage, I hear the whistle of an arrow as it whizzes by my head. I turn my head to see the Orc had **thrown** the arrow! _What kind of monster is this? This is spectacular! Well other than the Orc wanting to kill me..._

About to turn my head back around, I see the Orc **throw** the giant axe at me! Running originally for a height advantage, I run for cover. Jumping over a rock and hiding behind it, I have to take a double take at who is sharing the rock with me... Brynjolf. **And** he's counting the gold inside of a small pouch, probably stolen from the Orc seeing as the words _Orky_ are written on it. Must have been why the Orc was chasing me, trying to slice me into separate pieces. I can see it now...

_"Someone stole my purse! Mister, have you seen a purse with the name Orky stitched on?" "Me? Oh no, sorry lad, can't say that I have." "Darn" "Well actually lad, I did see a **wee** elf pass by swinging a purse." "Thank You! Now I'll go kill that little thief!"  
_

"You know lad, you make the perfect scapegoat." Exclaimed Brynjolf as he closed the purse and dropped it down his shirt. "Well, you can pay for those beers for when we get to Whiterun!" Is what I planned to say had the Orc not grabbed me by the throat, ready to kill me.

Choking from the two unusually soft hands of the Orc, I manage to get out Brynjolf's name before the Orc could kill me. _Wow, the Orc's hands feel like a woman's hands, or baby hands._

"Alright lad," I heard just barely over the sounds of me choking. "Hey Orky!" At the call of the name _Orky_ , the Orc stopped choking me, _finally_ , and shifted his head towards Brynjolf.

With the look of disappointment on his face, _What? Did I sell you out? Oh, I'm so sorry! Not. You used me as a scapegoat!_ "I found your purse on the ground after you left."

I fell out of the Orc's choke hold, hitting the ground hard as the Orc grabbed the purse out of Brynjolf's hand and caressed it like a baby. _Oh Gods, it's even cooing at the purse. But this has made my day!_

We left before the Orc could realize we had stolen the gold from the purse.

**Later...**

* * *

**Kalin's Journal  
**

_**Sundas, 17th of Last Seed, 4E 201** _

_I have finally made it to Skyrim! I've crossed the border safely, though I did see a creepy cave down from the gate. The flowers are nice though._

_After checking my map, I walked along the road up to Falkreath. Along the road there were some revelers who wished me a good noon. I love Skyrim already!_

_A dream of mine was to visit Skyrim! I remember when I was a little girl, I wanted to play in the snow forever. But I gave up that childish dream and it was replaced by another; To learn more about magic at the College of Winterhold, which was in fact located in Skyrim! Fulfilling two dreams at once!_

_I can't wait to meet the people of Skyrim, the Nords! Such a hardy people, I'm told the Nords are as strong as a bear and as hearty as one too! However, the White-Gold Concordat seems to have hit Skyrim hard, the rebellion started over it seems to be really one-sided; a half of Skyrim joined the rebellion and everyone else wants to stop it. I really hope I don't get caught up in the fighting..._

(a space between the two entries possibly indicating the second entry had been later written that day) _  
_

_Writing from an inn in Falkreath called the Dead Man's Drink, it's still the 17th of Last Seed, but it's gotten dark and I didn't have a place to sleep.  
_

_Fortunately, someone had bought me a room in the inn to stay in before time. The innkeeper told me the local priest had bought the room for any travelers, I should go and thank him later._

_I wasn't able and don't think I'm even capable of describing the beauty of Falkreath on my way to the city! It's just so beautiful! The trees, the crisp cold air, and the flowers filled me with delight! And the people I have met so far have been incredibly nice!_

_However, I was embarrassed earlier when I asked a guard if his knee had gotten better when he talked about being an adventurer but took an arrow to the knee. The guard shook his head and told me that the term was for getting married. After apologizing, I had asked for directions to the inn and he pointed me in the direction of the Dead Man's Drink._

(another space occurs)

_Having just barely enough time to write this, I would like to write this down._

_Earlier, as I was closing my journal, I heard muffled voices getting louder by the second saying stuff about how Helgen was destroyed and someone needed aid. Considering I did know a few healing spells, I rushed to the source of the noise, which was very close.  
_

_As I reached my destination, I saw the two people requiring healing; a old man in Imperial Armor and a High Elf in torn elegant robes. Seeing as the old man didn't look like he was going to die from anything at the moment, I turned to the elf, casting Healing Hands on her._

* * *

**Earlier...  
**

"Ugh, I didn't think elves were this heavy," thought General Tullius repositioning the elf hanging over his shoulder. With each trudging step towards Falkreath, he felt like his legs were burning just as Helgen was. Tullius didn't even know why he was helping Elenwen, he hated the Thalmor. He guessed it was the part of him that wanted to save any lives in danger.

Seeing Falkreath from atop the hill, Tullius thought, "Just a few more steps..."


End file.
